Disclaimer: No, I really don't own Kingdom Hearts.
Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/followed this story so far, I really appreciate your support! Also, I'd like to apologize for the wait—I've been working through some writer's block...
On with the show!
Chapter VII: Brave Bondage
Although I can't bring myself to regret my insistence that Sora give me another chance, that doesn't make me any less nervous when it comes time to begin my next session.
Riku's advice from yesterday rattles around in my skull—my brain is too busy trying to focus on everything at once to make use of it.
"You want to slow down, Kai?" Naminé huffs behind me.
I take another sip of coffee, I can't remember if it's my third or fourth cup, and turn around to face her. I give myself a mental pat-on-the-back when I manage to walk backwards without tripping over my own feet.
"Huh?" My mind and brain are doing a million miles an hour—though whether that's from nerves or the caffeine, I can't say.
Naminé takes the coffee from me, nimbly moving it out of my reach when I grab for it. "Kairi, relax."
I know I should—but I can't.
Sora's going to be there today, and this might be my one chance at really getting through to him. I mean, he's obviously had some intensive training to have the reflexes and battle prowess—if his midnight rescue of me is any indication—that he does, so maybe if I do well, I can impress him.
It's a pathetic way of thinking to be sure, but at least it gives me hope.
"I don't know what you're talking about; I'm perfectly fine." The words come out in a caffeine-induced jumble, and I know from the way Naminé's eyebrows dip that she's seen through my pretense.
"I don't know what you're so worked up about—it's really not that big a deal..." Naminé switches the coffee to her other hand, and I can feel my lips working themselves into a frown.
"Give that back!" I try not to whine, but my effort crashes and burns in the face of the possibility that I might nod get my third—fourth?—dose of caffeine and be as alert as humanly possible for my training session.
"Nope," Naminé pops the 'p'.
"But Sora's going to be there. If I do a good job, he might actually speak to me!"
Naminé pauses mid-step, and I wonder if I've upset her or misspoken somehow. Her eyebrow quirks upward. "That doesn't seem like Sora...he's usually a pretty nice guy. I'm sure he has his reasons for not speaking to you...especially since you used to be such good friends."
Her words are like being stabbed—so it's just me that he hates...everyone else is perfectly normal in his book.
What did I do?
"Maybe he likes you..." Naminé's grin says she's not exactly kidding, but I can't bring myself to believe that—if you like someone, you're supposed to be nice to them.
"I don't think so...Sora sure as hell doesn't act like it..."
Naminé shrugs. "You never know...Guys are awkward around girls they like."
Riku and Roxas aren't. I bite my tongue to keep from voicing my thoughts. "Maybe..." I hope she'll drop it—I really don't want to keep talking about this any longer than necessary.
I back into something, which isn't exactly surprising since I'm not really paying attention to where I'm going.
"Sorry!" My apology is as reflexive as breathing—I run into people all the time. Literally.
"No worries." Yuffie replies. "Are you all set for your next session?"
It's irritating, how my friends always seem to know exactly what I don't want to talk about and then proceed to have an unnecessarily long conversation on the subject.
"I think so..."
Yuffie grins and socks my arm playfully. "I'm sure you'll be fine. The test is a piece of cake."
Ow. I resist the urge to rub my shoulder and take a moment to process Yuffie's words. "Wait—test?"
Yuffie has this deer-in-the-headlights look on her face, and from the way Naminé's glaring at her, I feel a little left out of the loop.
"It's just a skills assessment, really." Yuffie shrugs—but coming from a master of martial arts, Yuffie's words don't inspire a whole lot of confidence.
"Don't worry about it, Kairi, it's not a test." Naminé grits out the last part and I get the sense that she's reassuring me and reprimanding Yuffie for her slip-up in the same sentence.
Which means it is a test.
Crap.
I want to cry.
I want to scream.
I want to throw-up.
My body decides that it's going to do all three at once, and then I'm crying, and my scream turns into something desperate that sounds like 'excuse me!' and then I'm giving up my lunch into the nearest trash can.
Gross. The only thing that makes this even remotely less mortifying is the fact that the student body has gone home for the day.
Naminé holds back my hair, and Yuffie pats my back, but neither of those things makes me feel any better.
My mouth tastes like puke mixed with coffee, so I rinse my mouth out at the water fountain and pop a stick of gum into my mouth to get rid of the taste.
"Are you okay?" Yuffie asks.
I snatch my coffee from Naminé while she isn't looking and down the rest of it in one gulp. "Never better." I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and chuck the empty cup into the garbage. "Let's do this."
***13***
Sora's mouth is twisted in a grim scowl, his face unreadable as I take my place at the center of the gymnasium.
"Alright, you can start whenever you're ready." It's Riku who says this—his easy smile helps me relax a little.
My heart rockets into my throat when Sora slips off the bleachers in one lithe movement. He unzips his sweatshirt and I immediately wish he hadn't—the sinewy cords of muscle in his arms make it exceedingly difficult to drum up the anger I need to fend him off.
I fumble my way into the classic 'ready position', but the way Sora's looking at me like I'm easy prey completely demolishes my confidence; not that I had much to begin with...
Sora's blue eyes burn with a kind of tempered violence that's extremely unsettling to see—if it was any other guy's eyes scanning me the way his are, I'd think they were checking me out, but the ferocity in Sora's glare tells me in no uncertain terms that he's analyzing my weaknesses.
He moves and I react out of instinct more than anything and block the chop to my throat. Somehow, I manage to swat away the knee that's barreling toward my ribs.
Sora's attacks pick up speed and he gets past my guard with an elbow and a palm-heel; both blows slam into my stomach with enough force that I'm glad it's already empty.
The breath explodes out of me, and only a reflexive block saves my nose from getting broken,
"Focus, Kairi." Naminé calls.
I want to yell at her for distracting me, but I can't get distracted now.
Remember: the best offense is a good defense. Riku's advice from yesterday swims to the surface of my consciousness, but my lapse in focus earns me a blow to the inside of my knee. Something in the joint goes pop, and my leg gives way under the blow.
Ow, ow, ow!
It's more luck than skill that lets me fend off Sora's next two strikes—gods he's fast—but then he slips around my clumsy counter-kick, and takes my legs out from under me.
I hit the floor hard, sucking air like a dying fish as I try to come to grips with the fact that my latest effort at making a real connection with Sora is quickly slipping though my fingers.
I can't look at him; can't bear to see the look of disgusted disappointment I know must be on his face.
"Get up." Sora snaps, and I've barely gotten my feet under me before he's issuing another order. "Come with me." His hand wraps around my upper arm like I'm a child to him or something and he all but drags me from the room.
Once we're outside, alone in the hallway, Sora starts pacing like a caged animal. His hand rakes through his hair and he turns to me, conflicted, like he doesn't know whether he should be angry or impressed.
"Do you want to be a Wielder?" Sora asks after a long, uncomfortable silence.
"Huh?" I have to make sure my ears aren't playing tricks on me. I don't know if I can handle it if this is a lie too...
Sora looks at me like: I don't speak dumbass, like: Maybe this is a mistake...
And then he says it again, slowly, so there's no possible way for me to misunderstand him. "Do. You. Want. To. Be. A. Wielder?"
"Yes." I answer automatically, not quite able to believe what I'm hearing.
"Fine. Then you'll follow my commands explicitly, without question, and without hesitation." He pauses and hands my phone back to me. "You will come when I call you I don't care if you're in bed, in the shower, or at your great Aunt Edith's funeral, and you will always answer the phone by the third ring."
I find myself nodding along with his demands, and I try not to think about that little part of me that isn't exactly opposed to being ordered around by him. "What if I'm in class?" I have to ask—I'm not really too keen on tarnishing my 'good girl' reputation.
Sora nods. "I'll take care of that. And one more thing—until you've passed your Mark of Mastery exam, you are not to refer to me by name during any activity that pertains to your training. Is that clear?"
Instant acceptance. "Yes..."
Sora looks at me like he's waiting for something, and then I realize that I've forgotten his title.
'Sir' makes him seem like an old man. 'Teacher' seems like it doesn't quite encompass the scope of what he's trying to do.
And then it hits me—the perfect word. "Master." My heart skips a beat when the word passes my lips, and my heart drops into my stomach. There just something so...binding about that expression. But, I can't bring myself to regret my choice of words.
Sora's lip curls upward into the ghost of a smile, and then he motions at the door.
Roxas and Riku exit then, and the four of us head down the hallway to the strange door with the three circles on it.
"Where are we going Sor-?" I begin, but the way Sora tenses makes me catch myself before I slip. "Master?"
Riku arches an eyebrow, and Roxas looks at me sideways, but neither of them say anything.
"You're getting sworn in." Sora responds and then we're headed down into the room.
The room at the bottom of the stairs is well lit and industrial-looking—almost every surface is matte silver and stainless-steel. There's a small, auxiliary-gym type room with a weight bench, treadmill and a combat mannequin that's seen better days.
There's also a sizeable display of keychains on a dais in the center of the room, some car keys hanging on the wall, a small wardrobe, and a massive computer along the back wall.
It's a pretty impressive setup.
Sora reaches down and takes a rugged black cylinder with a keyring on the end of it from beside the dais and then he hooks a keychain that looks identical to the symbol on the door to the end of it.
There's a flash, and then he's holding a key-shaped sword that looks very sharp and very dangerous.
Riku and Roxas follow Sora's lead, although their weapons are considerably more ornate, and Roxas has two of them.
"This is a Keyblade." Sora explains. "This is not only our weapon of choice, but it is a symbol of our cause: the defense of those who cannot protect themselves. It is earned, not given. And, if you wish to earn the right to wield your own weapon, you must take the Wielder's Oath."
I nod.
"Kneel, and repeat after me:" Sora instructs gravely.
I obey immediately, focused on his words.
"I, Kairi Grimm, do solemnly swear-"
I take a breath at the realization that there's no going back after this. I can't take back something this serious. "I, Kairi Grimm, do solemly swear,"
Sora's eyes bore into me, like he's searching my soul for the slightest hint of dishonesty. "To deliver the weak;"
"To deliver the weak."
"To combat tyranny in all its forms;"
"To combat tyranny in all its forms." The more I listen, the more I realize how serious this oath is.
"To be fearless in the face of death;"
"To be fearless in the face of death." I'm a little nervous at that, but I'm determined not to show any weakness.
"And above all, to wield the Keyblade in defense of peace and justice as long as I am able."
I repeat the last line, and Sora touches my shoulder gently with his Keyblade—I can't help but be surprised by the weight of it.
Sora's severe expression doesn't waver when he hands me a heavy wooden staff. "'Earned, not given. Until such a time as you earn your weapon, you'll be training with this."
Another nod. "Yes, Master."
"Rise. That will be all. You are dismissed." Sora says, not unkindly. "Training begins tomorrow morning at six a.m."
I curtsy, because I feel like that's what I'm supposed to do. "Yes, Master." I rest the heavy staff on my shoulder and head back up the stairs.
"Don't be late." Sora adds.
"I won't be." I reply, hoping I'm telling the truth. I'm elated at the prospect of becoming a Wielder, but that won't make getting out of bed tomorrow any easier.
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~Script
